The 'Chair'
by Sam1
Summary: Timeout will never be the same again in the Tracy household.


Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em nor am I making any money.

A/N: This story came out of nowhere while I was driving to class this morning.

The 'Chair'

Slamming his bedroom door behind him, the six-year-old boy stalked angrily across the room and then threw himself across the neatly made bed. Grumbling, angrily, into the pillow that he'd snatched, he didn't hear his bedroom door open nor did he realize that someone was next to him until a strong hand clasped his arm.

"Downstairs, now, Son." Yelping in pained surprise, he got to his feet somehow without his father ever letting go of his arm. "Your behavior is unacceptable and generally, I'd send you to your room for that reason but since you want to slam doors and behave boorishly then you can sit in the 'chair' where I can see you." Instantly, he struggled against his dad's grip.

"No, Daddy, I'll be good," he begged. "I won't slam no more doors, promise." Ignoring his son's words, Jeff picked him up when he tried to sit down and carried him to the dreaded 'chair'. Two other brothers watched, anxiously, as their father carried their brother past them and towards the 'chair' before running off to find their mother.

* * *

"Mommy, don't wet Daddy put 'Cotty in da 'chair'." Three-year-old, Virgil, pleaded on behalf of his big brother. "Da 'chair' is 'cary." Lucy picked up him up while offering to hold John's hand. 

"Was he behaving badly?" she asked her voice calming.

"Yep, Mommy. He slammed the door and Daddy told us, "No slammin' doors", 'member?" John answered.

"Well, if he was misbehaving then Daddy has to help understand that when he acts badly, he will have a punishment," Lucy said. Her son that she held in her arms tried once more to help his brother.

"But, Mommy, da 'chair' is…"

"Bad." John finished Virgil's comment. Their words and pleas fell on deaf ears and they knew that their brother was condemned to sit in the 'chair'.

* * *

"Daddy, I don't want to sit in the 'chair'," he cried. "I'll be good and help Mommy if you don't make me sit there." Approaching the 'chair', Jeff tried to sit his son on the chair only to have him struggle against him. 

"Sorry, Son, but you brought this on yourself," he said, sitting him down, firmly, on the chair. At once, the boy stopped moving and clasped his hands firmly together on his lap. Perplexed, Jeff watched him from his desk while working on some paperwork. When the six minutes was finished, he looked at his son. "You can get up now." Still his son sat perfectly still, though he looked up at his dad. "Go play with your brothers." The boy continued to sit still. Confused, Jeff got up and went to his son, who held up his arms as if he wanted to be held. Jeff picked him up only to find his arms suddenly empty when his son squirmed out of his grasp.

"Can I go, Daddy?" he asked.

"I told you that you could go and you stayed in the chair, why?" Jeff asked.

"Daddy, the chair has teeth and it bit me and it always gives us owies," he answered. Of all the answers, he thought he'd get, that wasn't one that he expected.

"Son, chairs don't have teeth," he explained. Scott shook his head in disagreement.

"That chair does to have teeth and it bit me," the six-year-old argued, dropping his shorts, pointing at a splinter in the upper part of his thigh. Shocked by the sight of his son dropping his shorts, it took a moment before Jeff could react and pick his son up. Carrying him to the bathroom, he ran into Lucy and two of their sons in the hallway.

"Jeff, what's going on?" she asked.

"The 'chair' bit me, Mommy," Scott answered. "It bit my bottom and left an owie." John took the opportunity to add his two cents.

"I tol' you, Mommy, the 'chair' is bad," he said. "Is badder than me and bubbies."

"Yeah, is badder, Mommy," Virgil echoed.

"Scott, it didn't bite your bottom. The splinter is in your leg," Jeff corrected him.

"It still hurted, Daddy," he argued.

"All done, Scott," Jeff said, placing a small bandage on the owie.

"Ooo, Scotty got a Stuper Man sticker," Johnny cried.

"Superman bandage, Johnny," Lucy corrected.

"Me wan' one," Virgil demanded. Jeff rolled his eyes at Lucy and quickly announced that it was bedtime.


End file.
